


we've been here before

by sarcasticfishes



Series: tumblr prompts [7]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Friendship, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pre-Poly (if you squint), Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 18:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21080873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfishes/pseuds/sarcasticfishes
Summary: “So like, are we okay?” Ryan asks, and there’s something plaintive in his voice that Shane hasn’t heard in — well, in over a year now.





	we've been here before

**Author's Note:**

> Shane's lil 'we're friends' bit is starting to feel like there's a little bit of weight to it. Combined with Ryan's admission about his last breakup, I've been having feelings so. Here have this.
> 
> **prompt:** _"some soft pre-relationship shyan? can also be pre-polyam, i just want some soft boys loving each other."_

Shane’s phone rings on the nightstand, which is a rare occurrence at 2am. He sets it to Do Not Disturb every night, which only allows certain numbers to get through before his alarm at 6am.

Shane finds his glasses first, because he truly can’t see shit without them, and then clumsily shoves them onto his face as he grabs around for his phone. Next to him, Sara pushes herself up on her elbow, hair in disarray, squinting as the display from Shane’s phone lights up their bedroom.

“What— what time is it? Who’s calling?” She mumbles, as Shane finally gets a look at the call contact flashing up on his screen.

“It’s Ryan,” he says, a little slurred with sleep. “Wh— It’s 2am.”

“Answer it,” Sara says, and even in his sleep-addled state, Shane can hear her concern. Ryan rarely calls, his anxiety making him more of a voice-to-text kind of guy, so Shane slides his thumb across the screen to answer and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Ryan?”

There’s a crackle on the other end of the line, like a surprised exhale.

“Oh, hey. I didn’t expect you to answer.”

Ryan sounds… like Ryan. His voice is a little growlier over the phone, as always. 

“What’s going on?” Shane asks, and now that he’s a little more awake he can hear the slight background noise, people talking, cars passing. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, man,” Ryan says, a little softer. “I was just— I just wanted to call you.”

Behind him, Shane hears Sara sigh and turn over, going back to sleep when it’s clear that there’s no emergency. There’s a large part of Shane that wants to join her, but a smaller more insistent part of him that senses there’s more to Ryan’s call than meets the eye. Or ear, rather.

Shane reaches over to pat Sara’s hip before he climbs out of the bed.

“Gimme a sec, Ryan,” he says, and tucks the comforter in around Sara’s back so that she doesn’t get cold, slides his feet into his slippers, and shuffles out of the bedroom. “What’s going on, man? It’s 2am.”

“Fuck,” Ryan says, like he’d forgotten, “I— god, you’re right, I’m sorry man. I thought it’d go to voicemail, I didn’t even expect the call to go through I thought you’d be on DND.”

“I was,” Shane says, and he’s a little miffed but now the concern is bleeding back in. “Are you out somewhere? You drinking?”

“Yeah I had a few,” Ryan admits, quiet. Shane can almost picture him, standing in the street outside some bar, hand in his pocket, shoulders hunched in. He’s probably just wearing a t-shirt, because it’s still summer. It always feels like summer.

“Is Marielle there?”

“Yeah, she’s inside— I’m fine, Shane, I just. Hmm.”

Shane sits down on his sofa, pulls the blanket from the back around his bare shoulders. Obi wanders out from the bedroom and makes a beeline for Shane once he sees him on the couch.

“Bergara?”

“So like, are we okay?” Ryan asks, and there’s something plaintive in his voice that Shane hasn’t heard in — well, in over a year now. Back when Ryan was at his lowest, coming out of a relationship that he thought would never fail, suddenly faced with the prospect of starting over. Back then, he’d needed Shane and his bros more than ever.

“Yeah, Ryan, we’re okay,” he says, gentle. “What’s— What’s got you worked up?”

“Mmm, nothing,” Ryan says, but it doesn’t sound like nothing. “We were just talking about the show. I realized, we hadn’t spoken in a bit and I wondered if. I don’t know man, I just really wanted to hear your voice. Isn’t that wild?”

“It’s extremely wild for several reasons. Mainly the fact that it’s 2am and I was in bed with my girlfriend—”

“Fuck man, I didn’t—”

“_Sleeping_, Ryan. Some people sleep at 2am, although I know that’s never been your prerogative.” 

Ryan starts laughing on the other end, that stupid high giggle he does when he’s caught off guard, when he’s just the perfectly giddy kind of drunk, so easy to push around, easy to amuse. In the background, he hears the noise get briefly louder, and then a voice—

_“There you are!”_

There’s some rustling, and Ryan grunts softly, still giggling. Louder rustling. Ryan sounds like he’s underwater.

“I— Mari, I’m on the phone,” Ryan laughs, and his voice breaks the surface again. “Sorry, Shane.”

_“Shane! ”_ Marielle repeats, a smile in her tone that Shane returns, alone in his living room. He still doesn’t know Marielle all that well, not nearly as well as Ryan knows Sara — but Shane wants to know her. He can feel how good she is for Ryan, sees it every time Ryan shows up at the office with a smile on his face, even when she’s filming somewhere on the other side of the continent. 

“Tell her I say hi,” Shane tells Ryan, and hears Ryan relay the message back, _he says hi_.

_“It’s cold out here,”_ Marielle says, and Shane is pretty sure that it’s not cold at all. _“I’m getting another drink inside, you want one?”_

“Just water for me, babe,” Ryan says, followed by the soft _smack _of a chaste kiss, and then suddenly Marielle’s voice is right there in the receiver

“Ryan _loves _you,” she says, right into the mic, and then shrieks as though being pushed away, laughing. “_HE LOVES YOU.” _

“Shh— shut up, Mari, I’m—” Ryan’s laughing too hard to answer, “I’m talking to my _friend_.”

_"Your_ _boyfriend_,” Mari retorts joyfully.

“My _frien— _ My _just _friend,” Ryan insists, “You’re drunk. Go inside, I’ll find you in a minute.”

Obi, in Shane’s lap, has been listening to the entire exchange with twitching ears and shrewd eyes. Shane idly scratches the back of his kitty’s neck, waits for Ryan to come back. He sounds brighter than before, mere seconds of Marielle’s presence lifting his mood. It makes Shane feel warm inside to think of.

“I’m sorry, she’s,” Ryan laughs softly. “Well. You know.”

“You sound happy,” Shane says, and Ryan goes quiet for a moment, breath catching.

“I am. Moreso now that I know we’re okay.”

Shane wonders about whatever made Ryan doubt their okayness in the first place.

“If we weren’t, I wouldn’t have answered your call at two in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, sounding sheepish. “Yeah, I really— I didn’t think.”

“We’re friends, Ryan.”

“Don’t.”

“You’re my _friend_. You’re my just friend.”

“Fuck you, dude,” Ryan laughs. “Also, fuck me, I guess.”

“I think that’s a little outside the realm of ‘_justfriendship_’,” Shane retorts, and hears Ryan’s spluttering laughter on the other end of the line.

“Ho— Holy shit, dude.”

Shane snickers quietly to himself, rubbing tiredly at his eyes beneath his glasses.

“Alright. You good, Ry-Guy?”

Ryan sighs softly through his giggles, a contented kind of sound as background noises get louder while Ryan wanders back towards whatever bar he’s loitering in front of midweek.

“Yeah. We’re good?”

“We’re always good, Ryan,” Shane says, “We always pick up where we left off.”

“Yeah. We do,” Ryan agrees, on the other end. “Hey, let’s catch a movie or something before we get back to filming, okay?”

“Sounds good to me, buddy,” Shane sighs, and starts to move Obi off his lap and up onto his shoulder so that they can make their way back to bed. “I gotta go. Some of us actually have work in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, apologetically. “Give Sara my love. Tell her I’m sorry if I woke her.”

“She doesn’t mind,” Shane says, even if it’s not entirely true. He’s sure Sara’s going to love hearing this story once she’s fully awake and Shane’s putting a coffee cup in her hands. “G’night Ryan.”

Ryan says, “Night, Shane, love you,” and abruptly hangs up without waiting for a response. Shane snorts so hard with a laugh that Obi startles and tries to squirm off his shoulders, landing on the floor with a thump and skidding into the bedroom.

Shane brings the couch blanket with him back to bed, because he’s sure Sara has acquired at least 80% of the comforter in his absence.

Quietly, he slips in behind her, carefully curling his arm over her waist. Sara shifts closer and relinquishes some of the covers in return for some spooning action.

“Ryan okay?” She asks, face half-buried in the pillow. Shane nods, nudging his nose against the crown of her head, breathing the scent of her curls.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “He’s doing just fine.”


End file.
